A Touch of Poise
by ArianaFaithful
Summary: A new Dumbledore has come out to play... When Hermione discovers she is a Dumbledore, she goes into hiding. She returns years later, unknown to everyone, as their newest DADA teacher. But there is danger, and it's waiting for Hermione... DM/HG
1. Articles

* * *

**A Touch of Poise by _ArianaFaithful_**

**Chapter 1: The Article**

Hermione watched Harry out of the corner of her eye. He was staring out of the compartment window, absent-mindedly fingering his scar. The countryside zipped past the train, turning the view into a ceaseless blur.

Hermione worried for Harry, and for the mountainous burden that he was carrying, without a single person able to reach him to help. Ron and she had tried, constantly, over the summer to help relieve him, to distract him – even if it was momentary.

He didn't smile as much as he used to. He was constantly waking at night from nightmares in a cold sweat. She looked over at Ron, who exchanged glances with her. She saw it in his eyes too. He felt hopeless as to how to make Harry feel better.

"Harry, look," Hermione said hesitantly. "If you need to talk about Cedric-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said flatly, dragging his face away from the window and staring at Hermione. He looked between Ron and her and sighed.

"Mate, we're worried about you," Ron said.

"Well don't be."

"Harry, you know perfectly well that we could never not worry about you. Please! Snap out of this self-loathing for a minute and think about it!" Hermione said forcefully. "The bloody ministry is feeding you to the dogs. We don't believe it, and that's what truly matters. And anyone else who actually believes the absolute rot they put in there about you and Dumbledore is not right in the head.

"V-Voldemort is back. There's nothing you can do about that now – it's already happened. Maybe it's better in way, you know? Now we know that he's ready, he's starting to fight again. But this time, Harry, we know that it's coming!"

"You don't get it, Hermione!" Harry cried. "I'm the reason Cedric is dead, and Voldemort's back. Dumbledore has me hidden behind every curtain, even though I've faced more in fifteen years than most adult wizards have their entire lives!"

"Well, I always said Dumbledore was mental," Ron supplied. "Brilliant, but mental. He'll have a reason for it. We may not understand it, but you trust him, right? So we should trust that he's doing whatever cock and bull plan he has now in order to help you or protect you, mate, not to simply keep you out of the dark."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his jet black hair, making it even more out of place than usual.

"Yeah," he said, looking up at them. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just it's all so, so…"

"We know, mate," Ron said, sympathetically.

"Hard?" Hermione supplied to Harry. He nodded and sent her a grateful smile.

Suddenly, there was a sharp ripping sound. Crookshanks had torn a large gash in the side of Ron's pants.

"Bloody cat!" Ron yelped.

Both Harry and Hermione began laughing at Ron, who was glaring at them. Hermione reached forward to grab Crookshanks away from Ron before he could do anything to the poor cat.

"Oh very funny you two," Ron said sarcasticly. "Put a sock in it."

Harry and Hermione tried to stifle their laughter, but their eyes kept drifting to the slash in his pants. This caused Ron to grab his robes and put them on, just to shut them up. But the laughter in his eyes told them he wasn't really angry.

Hermione began to relax, sensing a change in Harry's mood.

Before long, Neville had found his way to their compartment, bustling in with a new pot plant in hand.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Ron asked.

The chalk white plant had several creepers and tendrils, which were flexing and un-flexing themselves lazily. Neville held it in a bright orange pot, with strange carvings that would change every few seconds.

"Oh!" Hermione cried. "I know what that is! It's an asphodel!"

Neville grinned at Hermione as he sat down, chuckling. "It sure is. Gran gave it to me over the summer. Says I'm to take care of it."

"Looney old bat, that one," Ron muttered under his breath to Harry, who chuckled.

"What does it, er … do?" Harry asked staring at it apprehensively as one of the longer tendrils began to stretch menacingly towards him, before recoiling back.

Neville grinned; obviously pleased they were taking an interest in his plant. "It's mostly used in heavy sleep potions, but it's most common potion is the Draught of Living Death."

Hermione nodded eagerly, "yes, you add the powdered roots in an infusion of wormwood."

"Er, I see …" Harry said, still eyeing the plant. Ron snorted, quickly turning it into a loud cough.

"So how was your summer, Neville?" Hermione asked, shooting Ron and dark look.

As the train slowed, arriving at the platform in Hogsmeade, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville all shuffled out of their compartment, joining the throng moving off the train. The cool night air whipped around Hermione's face, making her pull her robes tighter around her. The four of them steadily made their way up towards the horseless carriages.

"Surprised to see you here, Potter," said a cold, drawling voice.

The four whipped around, Harry and Hermione with their wands drawn.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry said coldly.

Malfoy stood cockily, surrounded by Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini. He was around the same height as Harry, and Hermione noticed that his pointed chin wasn't so pointed anymore.

"I would have thought they would have carted you off to Saint Mungo's by now." Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini all laughed coldly.

"Shove off Malfoy," snarled Ron.

Malfoy smirked at Ron. "Or what? Going to mummy to write me a howler? Or knit me one of those dreadful jumpers?"

Ron suddenly lunged forwards towards Malfoy, who took a step back, alarmed. Neville and Harry grabbed his arms, while Hermione quickly wracked her brain for a spell.

"Ron, he's not worth it," Hermione told him calmly as Harry and Neville slowly let go.

"Listen to your favourite mudblood servant, Weasley," Malfoy snapped. He replaced the smirk back on his face, now sure Ron wasn't going to attack him and strode cockily forwards.

"Shut up," Harry said through clenched teeth.

"What is it with you Gryfindors? Potter, get your parents to teach you some good comebacks. Oh wait. They're _dead._"

"_Obscuro!_" Hermione cried, sending a pale blue stream of light from her wand.

Malfoy suddenly reached his hands to his eyes, tearing at his face.

"Who turned off the lights?" he panicked. "ARGGGHH! Somebody help me!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville all glared at Malfoy as he started panicking. His arms were stretched out in front of him as if he were a zombie. Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini were all staring speechlessly at Malfoy, as though he were an alien.

Then, there was a sickening _CRACK!_ as Malfoy ran into a tree and began screaming. Blood was pouring from his nose, and Hermione realised he had broken it.

"Blimey Hermione!" Ron cackled. "This is even better than that time in third year when you punched him in the face!"

Hermione watched Malfoy floundering around, his sight blinded by her spell. She was resiting the urge to begin laughing, but found a horrible guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach at his broken nose.

There was a billowing of black robes and Snape appeared in front of them, his greasy hair hanging in front of his face, his mouth twisted into a scowl. He waved his wand in the direction of Malfoy, and his nose stopped bleeding and his eyesight clearly returned, for he stopped running around, screaming.

Snape then turned on Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville.

"Who did this?" Snape's cold, slippery voice asked coolly.

"It was the mudblood," Malfoy spat.

"Granger! Detention. My office, Monday at 8."

"Yes sir."

Without sparing another look at them, Snape turned on his heel and headed back towards the castle.

Malfoy sneered at them, then climbed on the nearest carriage, followed by Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini.

The welcoming feast was delicious, as usual. Hermione listened carefully to Dumbledore's speech, as it was a lot graver than it had been in recent years. When he dismissed them all to their dormitories, Hermione stood with Harry and Ron as they made their way out of the Great Hall. Once in the Gryfindor tower, she instantly collapsed on her bed, exhausted.

* * *

The first week past slowly, with the anticipation of a Hogsmeade trip that weekend. As Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at breakfast on Saturday morning, Hermione turned around to Harry and Ron.

"Dumbledore isn't here," she said quietly.

Ron chewed through a bite of toast, and then shrugged.

"He's probably sleeping in," Harry said.

"But he wasn't at dinner last night," Hermione pointed out. Harry and Ron turned to her, eyes squinting suspiciously.

"Yeah, that's right. Come to think of it, I don't remember seeing him at the staff table last night," said Ron.

"Where do you think he could be?" Harry asked.

"Maybe he's sick?" Ron pointed out.

Hermione though about this, then shook her head. "No, Ron. He would have gone to the hospital wing for some potion and been right as rain."

They all fell silent, eating their breakfasts and trying to come up with ideas as to the headmaster's whereabouts.

Once breakfast was finished, Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way down to Hogsmeade, still discussing Dumbledore.

"Do you think it has something to do with … You-Know-Who_?_" Ron asked quietly.

Harry instantly adopted a grim look, while Hermione shrugged hopelessly at Ron.

"Why do you think they gave us first weekend back to go to Hogsmeade?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"It is a bit strange isn't it?" Hermione pointed out slowly. "First we get a surprise visit to Hogsmeade, and then Dumbledore disappears?"

Ron abruptly stopped walking, causing Harry and Hermione to stop as well and stare at him.

"Do, do you think it's safe to go to Hogsmeade then? If You-Know-Who is back, and Dumbledore's gone … It can't be safe, can it?"

"What's wrong Weasley?" came the cold sneer of Malfoy. "Just realised you'd have to sell your house if you wanted to buy anything today?"

With that remark, Malfoy and Zabini burst into laughter and shoved past the trio. Harry, Ron and Hermione watched them walk down to Hogsmeade.

"Gits," Ron muttered.

"They aren't even worth it, Ron," Hermione said quickly, hugging Ron. "You're so much better than Malfoy will ever be."

Ron smiled at her and Harry.

"You know, if Malfoy's fine about going down to Hogsmeade, then we should be alright," Harry pointed out.

Hermione nodded slowly, "as long as if he leaves, we leave. Agreed?"

Both Harry and Ron nodded and followed her down the path to Hogsmeade, talking about Zonko's latest invention – the candy potion kit, the _Lecca Lecca Kit_.

"Fred and George said they were getting one, you know, to experiment with," Ron told them excitedly, missing the slight glare of Hermione's at the mention of Fred and George experimenting. "All you have to do to get a chocolate frog, it put in a bit of cocoa and then say the magic word – and POOF! There it is."

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other, chuckling at their friend's eagerness for food.

As they walked into Zonko's they were stopped short by the mass of students already in there. Ron pushed through the crowd, towards the candy potion kit, leaving Harry and Hermione by the door, unwilling to try and get any further through the crowd. A bird in the corner closest to Hermione kept asking her for a scone and a cup of tea, to which she replied 'oh do shut up!' Harry picked up what appeared to be a broomstick, but it suddenly began hitting him over the head.

"Ow! Hermione! Get it off!" Harry cried, covering his head and ducking.

Hermione pulled out her wand, _"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"_

The broom froze mid-air. Harry slowly pulling his hands from over his head and stepped away, shooting her a grateful glance.

"Honestly Harry, don't you ever read the labels?" Hermione asked him, half exasperated, half amused.

Harry looked to where she was pointing and read out: 'The Belting Broom! Use this on enemies who need a good bonk on the head!'

"Oh, right," Harry chuckled sheepishly.

Hermione pulled the broom from out of the air and set it next to the box of Belting Brooms.

"Let's get out of here," Harry said, eager to escape the crowded shop. "We can wait for Ron outside."

Hermione nodded and followed him out the door. Ron appeared a short while later, looking crestfallen.

"They ran out," he said.

Harry patted him on the back sympathetically. "Don't worry about it, mate. Lets go grab a butterbeer."

Inside The Three Broomsticks, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat around a small table, clutching their butterbeers. Hermione looked between Harry and Ron, watching them as they talked about quidditch, their faces animated. A sudden bursting of her heart make her beam.

"I love you guys so much!" she cried. Harry and Ron stopped their conversation, looking at Hermione oddly.

"Er, we love you too, Hermione," Harry said, his face showing Hermione he was amused.

Hermione started laughing. Harry and Ron, perplexed at their friend's odd behaviour, began chuckling at her.

"It's just," Hermione said, clearing the laugh out of her voice. "I-I just … I dunno. I'm so glad I have you two."

Ron turned red, while Harry smiled at Hermione warmly.

"We are too, Hermione," Harry said. Ron nodded in agreement, still red in the face.

Finishing their butterbeers, the three exited The Three Broomsticks.

Harry, Ron and Hermione headed back up to Hogwarts not long after. They stopped outside the portrait of the fat lady, as Ron said the password. Once inside the common room, they all collapsed into the armchairs around the fire.

"I had fun today," Ron said sleepily.

"Me too," Hermione whispered, her eyes slipping shut.

Harry sat up a little straighter.

"Hermione?" he asked.

"What is it, Harry?"

"About what you were saying earlier, in the pub. Well, me too."

Hermione smiled at him, "I know Harry. You two mean the entire world to me."

Harry grinned back at her, relaxing in his seat once more. A bright camera flash and the sudden loud snore from Ron sent both Harry and Hermione cackling. Colin Creevy zoomed past them, having taken a picture of them.

Ron sat up groggily, muttering, "wuss going on?"

Harry and Hermione burst out in a fresh fit of laughter.

"Hi Harry!" Colin called, before shooting out the portrait hole.

"Oh shut up you two!" Ron cried, throwing at pillow at Hermione.

"Hey!" she cried indignantly, before throwing it back at him, her horrible aim causing the pillow to land closer to Harry then Ron.

Harry picked up the pillow and stood up, walking slowly towards her, a wicked grin on his face. Ron grabbed another and then made his way closer to Hermione, along side Harry.

Hermione gasped, then shot out of her chair, hiding behind it.

"No!" she cried, panic bubbling up within her as she also fought the urge to laugh. "Pick on someone your own size!"

"NOW!" Hermione heard Ron yell and then she was suddenly being pounded with pillows.

Screeching, she ducked and ran away from them, pulling her wand out.

"_RICTUSEMPRA!_" Hermione cried.

Suddenly, both Ron and Harry stopped advancing towards her, dropped their pillows and began cackling madly.

"ARGH! HA HA! HERMIONE HA HA! MAKE IT HA STOP HA HA!" Ron yelled.

"HA HA HA! HERMIONE! HA YOU HA KNOW I HATE HA BEING HA HA TICKELED!" Harry cried between laughter.

Hermione had dropped her wand to the floor and was shaking with silent laughter. Hermione looked up at Harry and Ron's horror stricken faces and instantly realised something was wrong. She stopped laughing and spun around.

"P-Professor," Hermione stammered horrified.

McGonagall raised her wand, and both Harry and Ron instantly stopped laughing.

"There has been an incident with Professor Dumbledore. He has had to leave the school briefly, and all students must return to their towers immediately." McGonagall said gravely. "The students are being sent back now. When your fellow Gryfindors arrive, please make sure they all get here."

McGonagall handed Hermione a list with everyone who was in Gryfrindor's name on it. Without another word, she left the common room. Harry and Ron stood behind Hermione, silent. The carefree atmosphere that had existed seconds ago had vanished.

"Why do you think she's making us do it?" Ron asked after a while. "McGonagall's usually here for this sort of thing."

Harry and Hermione shrugged at Ron, and they all took their previous armchairs.

Slowly, the Gryfindor common room became more and more packed. Hermione had set up an appointed member of each year level to account for all fellow students in their respective years. Once she was sure everyone in Gryfindor was there, she sent them all to bed.

The normally cheery atmosphere of the Gryfindor common room had been muted left to a dull, tense murmur. Even Fred and George hadn't made any wise cracks.

Hermione followed Harry and Ron up the staircase.

"Night," Ron said when she stopped at the girl's dormitory.

"Night."

Hermione pushed open the door and made her way over to her bed. Sighing she put on her pyjamas and quickly got into bed, Chrookshanks was curled up on the end. Exhausted, Hermione quickly fell asleep – without even reading a single book.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, the atmosphere was still tense. Dumbledore was still not back, and all the teachers sat at the staff table, looking downright terrible. They all had lines under their drooping eyes, and many of them would pour coffee or pumpkin juice into their cereal bowls.

"Wonder what's up with them?" Ron asked, reaching for a piece of toast. Hermione shrugged and waited as an owl flew onto her shoulder, before pulling the Daily Prophet off the owl's leg, and handing it the rest of her toast. The bird snapped the toast up, hooted and took off.

Hermione unrolled the newspaper and gasped.

Harry and Ron quickly stopped eating and asked her what was wrong.

"Dumbledore: A Murderer?" Hermione read from the front cover.

Harry and Ron both gasped, and a hush fell over the entire Great Hall, as if they had all been listening to Hermione.

"I, Rita Skeeter, bring you, my avid readers, terrifying news. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogswarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, was brought before the wizengamot yesterday on murder charges. Dumbledore, who has been Headmaster since 1970, could possibly be sentenced to Azkaban or The Kiss.

"Ariana Dumbledore, born 1884 was attacked by three young Muggles, at the age of six, who had seen her performing magic. She never recovered from the incident, and required constant care and supervision for the rest of her life. Desperate to prevent the loss of custody of her to St. Mungo's, her father, Percival Dumbledore who had attacked the Muggles and went to Azkaban rather than tell his real motive. The family, which consisted of Kendra Dumbledore; Ariana's mother, and Albus Dumbledore and Aberforth Dumbledore; Ariana's brothers, relocated to Godric's Hollow.

"When Ariana was 14, Kendra died, leaving Albus and Aberforth to care for her. Aberforth, who was close to Ariana, insisted on dropping out of Hogwarts to care for her. Albus, age 17, insisted that Aberforth return to school. Albus then met Gellert Grindelwald, and became so caught up in their plot to change the world, he neglected the care of his sister.

"During August 1899, the same summer of Kendra Dumbledore's death, Albus, Aberforth and Grindelwald had a violent quarrel, which soon turned into a duel. Ariana, who was upset by the magic, was accidentally killed. While Albus declares he has never known who struck the fatal blow, his brother, Aberforth, has recently come forward, blaming Albus for Ariana's death.

"Friday morning, Aberforth came forward to the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and has told him what really happened. Aberforth said, "Albus then turned his wand on Ariana. It was clear to me that he wanted her out of the way so he could pursue his ideas with Grindelwald. I had confronted him about it, which was how the fight started."

"Albus, who appeared before the wizengamot yesterday has refused to answer any questions … Continued page three."

Hermione let out a shaky breath and looked up from the newspaper. Harry and Ron looked just as shocked as she felt. Slowly the Great Hall filled with whispers.

Hermione looked up at the staff table, where all the staff had their heads hung hopelessly. A sudden _BANG!_ echoed into the Great Hall. All the students began to appear alarmed as heads turned towards the door.

And there he was. Dumbledore. Gryfindor and Hufflepuff cheered as he made his way grimly up to the staff table. Ravenclaw clapped politely, uncertainly. Slytherin eyed him evilly.

He stood in front of the staff table and brought his hands together in a short clap, which silenced the Great Hall.

"Students," he addressed. "Staff. I understand you are shocked as to the story in the paper. I wish you to know that I did not, under any circumstances, deliberately turn my wand on my own sister. Things will be explained to you in time. For now, the case has been placed on hold, under the imperius curse enquiry into my brother. Classes shall run as usual, and I shall remain in my office. Now is an important time for us to stick together through the bonds of peers, now more than ever."

With that, Dumbledore swept back through the Great Hall and out of the door. No one said anything for several moments.

"That was odd behaviour for Dumbledore," Harry said.

"Doesn't matter what Skeeter says. I believe Dumbledore," Ron said loudly.

This was met by a chorus of "hear hear" by the Weasley family and most other Gryfindor's and Hufflepuff's.

The next week of school saw Dumbledore away for meals increasingly. More news of the Headmaster was arriving to the school in the form of the Daily Prophet. Whispers and rumours floated around the school, while teachers began to look more and more strained than ever.

Harry, Ron and Hermione spent countless discussions on Dumbledore, wondering what had triggered his brother to reveal it now, after all these years. Hermione even allowed Harry and Ron peeks of all her homework, for the stress and tension in the castle was getting to everyone.

Malfoy and his gang of Slytherin's were strutting around the castle as if they owned it, shoving people out of the way, and hexing Muggle-Borns for the sake of it. Anger welled up in Hermione whenever she heard about what they had done, and she resolved to make them pay for it. Harry and Ron were in firm agreement with her.

When Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking out of the dungeons from potions on Friday afternoon, they saw their chance. Malfoy and Zabini (who the trio had noticed was spending a lot more time with Malfoy that he ever used to) were standing near the Great Hall, in front of the broom cupboard Harry and Ron had hidden Crabbe and Goyle in during their second year. Neither of them had noticed Harry, Ron or Hermione, as they crept forward, planning to hit them with a good curse or two.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall snapped loudly, causing the trio to stop, guilty expressions written all over their faces. Malfoy and Zabini spun around, mere meters away. Turning their noses up at them, the two strutted into the Great Hall.

"Yes professor?" Hermione asked carefully.

"Please come with me."

Hermione nodded to Harry and Ron, who watched Hermione walk away with McGonagall before walking up the stairs to the Gryfindor Tower.

McGonagall took Hermione to the Dumbledore's office.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans," McGonagall said clearly.

The entrance snapped to life, and McGonagall ushered Hermione onto the stairs. Hermione paused as the stairs slid to a holt, before quickly knocking on the door in front of her.

"Come in."

Hermione pulled the door opened and walked into Dumbledore's office. She sat in the chair across the desk from Albus Dumbledore, his half-moon spectacles twinkling in the candle light. The sorting hat stood proudly on the shelf behind him, and Hermione noticed the pensive to her right.

"A lemon drop, perhaps?" Dumbledore asked kindly, picking up the small bowl on his desk and offering it to her.

Hermione shook her head, "no thanks. Professor, what is it that you called me here for?"

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop in his mouth, while leaning back in his chair. He seemed to be mulling over her question as though he did not know the answer to it. Confused and slightly alert, she sat up straighter in her chair. Her fingers were twisting themselves nervously around the hem of her skirt. Dumbledore sighed, then with sad eyes, leaned forward.

"Miss Granger, I have something of great importance to tell you. Something that will change your life as you know it."


	2. Angus, Ariana and a Crown

**A Touch of Poise, by _ArianaFaithful_**

**Chapter 2: Angus, Ariana and a Crown**

Hermione felt her heart constrict in fear. It wasn't everyday that the most powerful wizard in the world asked you to his office to inform you of life changing news. _But then again, _Hermione thought. _This is what Harry must have to go through._

"W-what is it, professor?" Hermione asked.

"Miss Granger, we shall have to start at the beginning," said Dumbledore, who was leaning forward, hands clasped gently on top of his desk. His half-moon spectacles were slowly sliding down his nose. "Surely you have heard the story of my sister?"

Hermione nodded, wondering what any of that had to do with her. _Why was she even here?_ An unsettled feeling lodged itself firmly inside Hermione's stomach.

"It is … partly, a lie," Dumbledore said, his eyes seemed to be staring through her, almost … reading her. "My sister was not killed when she was fourteen, but rather, Aberforth and I decided it would be entirely much safer if everyone thought she was dead. Our mother insisted on playing a part. She faked her death, some months before the date you believe to Ariana's. Ariana did not understand what was happening, but she knew that she was to stay hidden, for her safety. Our mother took polyjuice potion and pretended to be Ariana. She was killed in the fight between myself, Aberforth – who was acting his anger towards me – and Grindelwald. Our mother was killed, and everyone believed it had been Ariana.

"Ariana fell pregnant when she was 25, to a distant relative of the Longbottom's. Her daughter, Amelia, was born. However, soon after Ariana had a fit of madness and did not recover, but died, shortly later. Grindelwald was out for revenge, he was angry at me you see. So Aberforth and I hid Amelia with a muggle-born family, altering her appearance with a complex glamour spell, which could only be lifted if she knew the truth. She excelled through Hogwarts, with both Aberforth and I watching her closely. During Amelia's final year of school, on her seventeenth birthday, we told her the truth.

"She was reluctant, at first, to believe what we told her. However, she soon came to realise it as the truth. Years later, she became engaged to Edgar Bones, Susan Bone's uncle. They were both working for the Order of the Phoenix, during Voldemort's reign of power, which killed Harry's parents. In 1979, death eaters found and killed Edgar. Amelia fled, knowing she was next. A few months later and her daughter was born. She sent her daughter to Aberforth and I, asking us to do the same that was done to her when she was little, to protect her newborn. A week later, she was found dead."

Hermione watched Dumbledore carefully, letting his story sink in. His tale was becoming all too similar to what she imagined would happen, now that Voldemort had returned at the end of last year because of the Triwizard Tournament. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut at how much it had changed Harry already.

"Sir," Hermione started, unsure of what to say. "I appreciate you telling me this, but what does it have to do with me?"

Dumbledore gave her a sad, watery smile. Hermione felt her stomach drop again, knowing that whatever he was about to tell her would be something she'd rather not know. Life was fine when it was simple. It really was.

"Hermione, your real name is Ariana Amelia Dumbledore."

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione scoffed, entirely shocked.

"Amelia left me two letters when she left you with me," said Dumbledore, pulling two envelopes out of a drawer and handing them to her.

Suddenly Hermione's throat constricted and she tried to gasp for air. Glancing desperately around the room she tried to wrap her head around what Dumbledore was trying to tell her. With a shuddering gasp, Hermione took the letters with shaking hands.

The first letter was unsealed. Pulling it out, Hermione spread the creases out of it, shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Then, she started to read.

_Dear Albus and Aberforth,_

_Uncles, I place Ariana Amelia into your care, as my fiancé was found murdered and they now look for me, I write in haste. They are searching for us. We have been hiding, but I fear for Ariana's life. I could never forgive myself for letting something happen to her. I trust you will do for her what you did for me; the glamour charm, and the muggle parents. I feel as this is her only chance. I trust you will care for her, and tell her when the time feels right, though really, there is no right time. Give her the memories when she needs them, and also, the crown when it is due. _

_I thank you for every bit of love and care you have shown me, and for the love and care I know you shall show Ariana. _

_Faithfully yours, _

_Amelia Dumbledore._

Hermione put the letter down with shaking hands.

"H-h-how do I know she was really my mother?" Hermione whispered. "This is just a piece of paper."

"Because you have her eyes," said Dumbledore. "And her mouth. There is also something else…"

Dumbledore conjured a small mirror and held it up for Hermione. The words from Dumbledore's story echoed around in her head. _"… A complex glamour spell, which could only be lifted if she knew the truth." _Hermione reached across the desk, tearing the mirror out of Dumbledore's hands. She clutched the mirror in her right hand, her knuckles turning chalk white. It was all she could do not to scream.

"Professor, if this is your idea of a practical joke, you need to seriously get your head checked!" Hermione shrieked, then seemed to understand she had just screamed at the Headmaster. She fell back into her chair the mirror falling from Hermione's hand and shattering on the floor. Hermione pulled her legs up onto the chair, wrapping her arms around herself and began sobbing.

Her whole life had been a lie. And now she had blonde hair. Her eyes were blue, her nose and mouth were… just different. She looked so delicate and perfect. She hated it.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said kindly. "I assure you this is not my idea of a joke. Alas, I wish it could have been different."

Hermione looked up at Dumbledore pushing the tears stubbornly and forcefully from her eyes. Her hand shot forward and tore open the remaining envelope. She felt awful, like she was going to throw up. Her stomach heaved as she tugged the letter out. As the first letter had been, it was short.

_Dear Ariana,_

_I understand this name must be foreign to you, and for that I apologise profusely. This should reach you on your seventeenth birthday, if all goes as planned. _

_There were reasons I had to place you in this life, and I have left memories of myself and your father. Perhaps this will help you understand why I did it. There were so many things I wanted to be able to say to myself. I wished to be able to watch you grow up. You were such a beautiful child. _

_I want you to know, that wherever I am now, I am proud of you. I am proud of what you have achieved, and of what you have not. I am proud to be able to call you my daughter. _

_Remember: The love we give makes us stronger._

_All my love, _

_Your mother. _

"Professor, I-I do not understand," Hermione whispered. "How can this be? What did she mean by 'the crown'?"

"Miss Granger, here comes another part I regret having to shock you with. You are, in a way, wizarding royalty. There was a prophecy made about Harry, some years ago. It was this prophecy that prompted Voldemort to go after the Potters. However, before that prophecy, there was another."

Dumbledore rose out of his chair and walked solemnly towards the pensieve.

"It was my fault really, all of this. Alas when I was young I had dreams of a better world. I didn't see the one right in front of me."

Hermione let out a sob and awkwardly got to her feet, following Dumbledore to the pensieve. The silvery substance of the pensieve was drawing her closer. Dumbledore pressed his wand towards it, and a blonde hair rose to the surface.

"After you, Miss Granger."

Hermione pushed her face slowly forwards towards the pensieve. A falling feeling suddenly gripped her, and then with a sharp thud, Hermione felt herself come into contact with hard ground. She stood up, feeling bruised. Dumbledore already standing next to her, his purple robes stood out shockingly compared to the dim green forest she was standing in.

"Where are we, professor?" Hermione asked.

"We are in the forbidden forest," Dumbledore said, before walking forward into a clearing.

Hermione, confused, followed Dumbledore out into the clearing. They waited, as clouds passed over head, blocking the moonlight as slivers glanced down upon them in the night air. Hermione was thankful this was a memory, as she was sure that she would have been freezing by now it was not. She followed suit as Dumbledore sat down on the ground, sitting cross legged.

A snapping of twigs caused Hermione to whip around. A figure was entering the clearing. It was a man, Hermione thought, by the way he held himself and walked. A jet black cloak hung around him, a hood covering his face. A wand was gripped tightly in his hand as he strode forward into the very centre of the clearing. A shoot of red sparks went up from the wand. Moments later a woman, wearing a deep green dress walked into clearing.

Hermione froze. This woman, who walked with such grace, such _poise,_ looked very similar to how her new reflection had looked in Dumbledore's office.

"Is that…?" Hermione breathed.

"That, Miss Granger, is your grandmother, and my sister, Ariana."

Ariana was slim, the green dress floated around her figure. Her blonde curly hair fell around her pale face, contributing to the gentle frailness of her beauty.

"Ariana," the black cloaked figure breathed, a note of relief in his voice. "You came."

Ariana walked up to the figure, placing a pale white hand gently on his cheek. Angus shut his eyes, a rattling breath escaped him.

"Angus," Ariana said, so softly Hermione had to lean closer to hear her. "I am here. Neither Albus, nor Aberforth could keep me away, even if they wanted to."

The man, Angus, let out another shuddering breath. "If we are going to do this, we must hurry. I do not know how long it will be until-"

"Shh," Ariana said. "Let us begin."

Angus nodded, seeming to gather his bearings. He strode forward, keeping Ariana well behind him. He pulled two sticks off the nearest tree to him, which Hermione saw was a pale golden colour, not the same dim green as the rest of the forest. _When had she missed that?_

He set the two sticks on the ground and pointed his wand towards them.

"_Protean Totalus!_"

Hermione registered how Angus had pulled apart two spells and combinded them. _I need to remember that, _Hermione thought fleetingly.

A jet of red shot towards the two sticks, and after the spell struck Hermione gasped. The two sticks had been bound around each other into a circle, similar to a crown.

"It looks like those wreaths the Greeks used wear on their heads," Hermione whispered. Dumbledore gave a rather wet chuckle.

Angus bent down to retrieve it. Ariana strode towards Angus and pulled a small dagger from her dress pocket and a determined look on her face. It glanced off the moonlight, sending the light towards Hermione and Dumbledore. Hermione gasped in horror. She watched with bated breath until Ariana reached Angus. Ariana she struck her finger, holding it over the crown of sticks. A single drop of blood fell onto the crown, as if in slow motion. Hermione let out her breath.

Angus placed his wand over the crown gently, tapping it once. It changed shape again. Its gold sticks curled up and around, turning silver and they moved. The few leaves shrunk and drew together, merging.

"_Expecto Partonum!_"

A phoenix of silver mist burst out of the end of Angus' wand, and flew up over the trees. Within seconds it was flying back, groundwards, plunging towards the crown of silver. It landed gracefully on Ariana's shoulder and let a single tear fall from its eyes. A hissing sound, like burning, echoed from the crown as the phoenix disappeared.

Angus, who was now blocking Hermione's sight from the crown, handed it to Ariana. She took it with care and grace, fingering the edges slightly. She let out a sigh, and turned to look up at Angus with watery eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Angus smiled at her, and with a start Hermione realised Angus loved Ariana.

"Do you see the crown, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked. At once Hermione pulled her attention from Angus and Ariana and looked carefully at the crown Ariana was holding. The tear from the patronus had changed the leaves into a brilliant red gemstone, with gold particles swirling through it.

"It is time to leave," Dumbledore said. Hermione suddenly felt a tugging around her stomach, and the edges of the memory started to fade and close in. Hermione took once last look of longing towards Angus and Ariana before they disappeared from her view entirely.

Hermione opened her eyes slowly, recognising the headmaster's office. She looked up at Dumbledore, whose eyes were shinning with wetness, as if tears were sitting in his eyes.

"That was the crown my… mother spoke of?" Hermione whispered.

"Yes, Miss Granger, it was."

"I, um, could I have a drink?" Hermione murmured as she took the seat opposite Dumbledore's.

Dumbledore conjured a goblet of water and handed it to Hermione, who began sipping it greedily. The cool water slipped down her throat, as Hermione ran through everything that had just happened. Her parents weren't really her parents after all. She was related to _Dumbledore_. Hell, she was a Dumbledore! She put the goblet down and placed her head in her hands. _How could she fix this?_

"Miss Granger, there is more."

Hermione moaned into her hands and looked up. _Of course there was._

"The prophecy concerned the crown. It contains the ancient magic."

"Surely you don't mean Merlin?"

"Indeed, though I wish it were not so. While my sister fell in love with Angus, who was quite a clever man, he delved too deep, too far, to try to save her. He created the crown with her blood, wood from that golden tree and a single tear drop from his patronus. It was shortly after that when the prophecy was made. Grindlewald found the crown and cursed it. My sister gave it to Amelia before she died. Before Amelia gave birth to you, the crown was stolen from her. I have been able to trace it to India-"

"Sir, what did the prophecy say?" Hermione asked. "What was the curse?"

"Alas, I am uncertain of the entirety of the prophecy, however, the third daughter of the crown was to aid The Chosen One in the death of a dark lord."

"I have to help Harry kill You-Know-Who?" Hermione asked, almost breathing out a sigh of relief. She was already going to; no matter what Harry thought was best for her safety.

"Yes, Miss Granger. But you cannot stay here. You must find the crown to help Harry."

"I need a crown to help Harry?" Hermione asked bluntly.

Dumbledore sighed sadly. "The prophecy refers to you as the third daughter of the crown. You cannot help Harry now, as Hermione Granger, but you can, as Ariana Dumbledore. I understand it doesn't make sense to you," Dumbledore said as Hermione opened her mouth to protest. "But until you accept who you are, find the crown and are able to return, Harry may face Voldemort without you. If he does… he may not succeed. Do you understand what I am saying, Miss Granger?"

Hermione felt a clenching of her heart. She knew only too well what Dumbledore was saying. That didn't make it any easier. Nodding mutely, Hermione gripped the ends of her school skirt as a tear slipped down her left cheek.

"Tell me what I have to do," Hermione said determinedly.

Dumbledore smiled brightly at Hermione, though there was sadness laced his eyes.

"Sir, what about my parents?" Hermione suddenly asked. "I mean my muggle parents. Do they know who I really am?"

Thoughtfully, Dumbledore stroked his white beard. "I will have to place a memory charm on them. When everything is over you can take the memory charm off them. This way they are much more unlikely to become a target of Voldemort. Yes, good. Well Miss Granger, I shall place a 24 hour glamour charm on you, making you look like Miss Granger. You will have until tomorrow evening to pack and prepare for everything. You will meet me just outside the entrance hall at 7pm. You will take a portkey to India, where you will arrive outside a deep blue building. Knock at the door and ask for Darvius. He will know who you are, and what you have to do. Should you need to contact me at anytime you may floo, however do this _only_ if it is an emergency. Last but not least, _tell no one._ Not even Harry and Ron can know about this."

"What will they think happened to me?"

"You can tell them you have to visit your grandparents, in America. Then after a week I shall inform the school that you perished in a muggle gun attack."

Hermione's lips twitched involuntarily as she tried not to burst into tears. Another tear feel down her cheek.

"S-sir, I think it would be best if I left now. I have a lot to think about and to get ready," Hermione said through a hazy film of tears in front of her eyes.

"You're right, Miss Granger, you may leave."

Hermione gave a jerk of her head and walked out of Dumbledore's office, her feet feeling like lead. As Hermione walked down the empty hallway the tears in her eyes fell. She made several loud sobbing noises in the back of her throat as she tried to keep the tears in. When she finally made it back to Gryfindor Tower, Hermione was relieved to find that most people had gone down to dinner.

This was the last time she would walk up these stairs at night, going to her dormitory. This was the last night she would be spending at Hogwarts. Would it stay that way forever? Would she ever be able to come back?

Hermione shoved open the door to the 5th year's girls' dorms, which only consisted of herself, Pavarti and Lavender. The door swung open its full span, and then bounced back, slamming itself shut after Hermione stalked through it. _Besides,_ Hermione thought as she threw herself on top of her four-poster. _It's not like its Harry's fault. He never wanted any of this. For Merlin's sake he'd rather face Voldemort a thousand times than put anyone else in danger._

Finding Crookshanks curled up next to her pillow, Hermione lay, gently running her fingers through his ginger hair while she sobbed onto her pillow. The repetitiveness of slowly patting her cat eased her into a sleepier state of mind. Eventually her eyes shut and her hand stopped petting Crookshanks.


	3. Caught

**A Touch of Poise, by _ArianaFaithful_**

**Chapter 3: Caught**

"Goyle, pass the butter," Malfoy drawled, slicing a warm roll open with his knife. When no butter appeared in front of him, Malfoy looked up with his eyes narrowed.

"Goyle!"

Goyle, who was reaching across the table towards the bowl of pasta, instantly withdrew his hand and looked towards Malfoy guiltily.

"Sorry Malfoy."

"For gods sake," Malfoy cried. "Pass me the butter!"

Goyle's hand shot out and closed clumsily around the butter. He placed it in front of Malfoy's plate. Without a word of thanks, Malfoy began buttering his roll.

"Silence," Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout the Great Hall.

Sighing angrily, Malfoy shoved the roll in his mouth.

"Honestly," he muttered to Crabbe and Goyle through his food, "that man is ridiculous. Can we not just eat our dinner in peace without having to listen to the old crack pot's madness?"

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered in agreement.

"Students, there has been… a terrible tragedy," Dumbledore said slowly. Malfoy rolled his eyes as he felt the other houses' tables sit up a little straighter.

"Miss Hermione Granger, who was in her fifth year of Hogwarts, was recently killed in a muggle car crash in America."

Malfoy absorbed this information, hardly believing it was true. He looked towards the Gryfindor table, hoping to spot either Potter or Weasley having to be dragged off to the hospital wing for turning loopy with grief. They weren't at the Gryfindor table.

Dumbledore continued after the gasps of horror and sadness died down.

"For those who knew her, you are able to come to Professor McGonagall or myself at any time, should you feel as though you cannot cope with her loss."

"What loss?" Malfoy muttered under his breath as Crabbe and Goyle sniggered again.

"I ask you all now to sit in silence for a moment, while we reflect on Hermione's brave and kind nature, and all she did in her five years in the wizarding world, which including facing the trials of Lord Voldemort, more than once."

The Great Hall fell silent as people lowered their heads and shut their eyes. He could see many on the Gryfindor table crying.

Malfoy watched as Dumbledore sat back down and shut his eyes. Malfoy turned back to the remainder of his roll and finished it, then turned to Crabbe.

"Pass the steak," he said.

* * *

"It's a pity about your girlfriend dying, Potter," Malfoy said outside the dungeons a week later. He held his nails up to the light, pretending to be barely interested in taunting Harry. "I would have used her body and _then_ she could have gone and gotten herself killed."

The Slytherins around him chuckled madly, as all the Gryfindors pulled their wands out. They all began shouting at the same time.

"You'll die for that Malfoy!" Ron spat.

"You fucking bastard!" Pavarti said icily.

"That's low, even for you," Lavender said quietly.

"I have never met anyone I have hated more than you, Malfoy," Seamus yelled.

A string of hexes were shot by the Gryfindors.

Goyle's arms and face turned pink. He started screaming and scratching at his face.

Blaise was thrown into Pansy and Millicent, who all landed in a heap on the floor.

Crabbe had a dozen bats fly down the corridor towards him and they begun attacking his face. He ran screaming, his hands swatting around his face, out of the dungeons.

Malfoy was blasted against the roof, whom then fell to the floor with a sickening crack. Harry, the only Gryfindor who hadn't reacted, strode forward slowly like a predator stalking his prey.

"Wands to the Slytherin's throats," Ron ordered behind Harry. "Use _petrificus totalus!_" The rest of Gryfindor was quick to find the other Slytherins they had hit with spells just before and press their wands into their throats and freezing them in place.

Harry reached Malfoy as he was beginning to sit up. Harry jabbed his wand into Malfoy throat.

"Stand up."  
Malfoy, glaring at Harry with utter loathing, rose to his feet slowly.

"You know what Malfoy?" Harry said, a feeling of pure, uninhibited hatred taking over him. "I'm not going to use a single spell against you."

All around Harry, both the Gryfindors and Slytherins, who were all unable to move, were watching Harry and Malfoy. Confusion passed through them at what Harry said.

"_Accio Malfoy's wand!_" Harry grabbed Malfoy's wand and threw it down the corridor.

"You didn't think I'd let you use it against me, did you?" Harry said, a feeling of power taking over him. "You're just like your father; weak and cowardly."

"Don't talk about my father like that!" Malfoy growled heatedly, annoyed at his foiled attempt to turn his own wand on Harry.

"We've told you time and time again not to talk about Hermione like that, but do you listen?" Ron bellowed.

"Shut up, Ron," Harry said, never taking his eyes off Malfoy. He pressed his wand into Malfoy's neck even harder. Ron and Neville exchanged glances. They had never seen Harry like this before.

"You will pay for that Malfoy," Harry continued, leaning his head to his right and peering into Malfoy's enraged eyes. "You can't escape something like who you are. It will consume you."

Harry pulled his wand from Malfoy's throat and turned his back on the group and stalked off through the corridor.

The Gryfindor's all took the full body bind of the rest of the Slytherins as Malfoy, rubbing his throat and glaring at the Gryfindors, spotted his wand and walked over to it.

"Weasley," Malfoy barked, turning on him. "You can tell Scarhead that if he thinks he can scare me with words, he is sorely mistaken."

"What is this?" said the excruciatingly slow drawl of Snape.

"Nothing," the Gryfindors muttered, grabbing their books and lining up outside the classroom.

"Mister Malfoy?" Snape asked, turning to him with an eyebrow raised.

"The Gryfindors thought they could teach us a lesson with their wands," Malfoy said, smirking at Ron and Neville, who were standing behind Snape's back. "It was nothing we couldn't handle though."  
"Twenty points and detention to everyone in Gryfindor," Snape barked. He pushed past Malfoy and opened the door, disappearing into the dim classroom with his robes billowing out behind him.

The Gryfindors slowly filled inside, with the Slytherins jostling them as they went in the door.

"Scared Weasley?" Malfoy sneered as he shoved past him into the classroom.

"Draco Malfoy," Ron whispered under his breath as he took a seat in between Dean Thomas and Lavender in the back row. "You will regret saying that for the rest of your life."

* * *

**_A/N:_**wow guys, im so sorry i've taken this long to update. This is a shorter chapter, but the plot is gonna start moving VERY soon :) and the chapters will pick up again, promise.

reviewing takes two seconds of your day, and it makes mine :)


	4. Compliance of Power

**A Touch of Poise by _ArianaFaithful_**

**Chapter 4: Compliance of Power**

Ariana sat in front of Dumbledore's desk. She looked around the office, reflecting over everything that had passed since the last time she had been inside it. As always, her eyes were drawn back to the desk in front of her.

The crown had been… difficult to trace, to say the least. She still didn't understand its full powers and effects. Her eyes ran over the small object that seemed to be of such great importance. She felt a certain fascination with it.

Her fingers stretched out towards it. Gently, as always, she traced the rim on the crown with the tip of her index finger. When she had completed a full circle she dropped her hand and bit her bottom lip.

The sound of the door opening behind her alerted Ariana to Dumbledore's arrival. As he sat down in his chair, he folded his hands on top of his desk and stared warmly into her eyes.

He hadn't changed in appearance in the slightest since she had last been at Hogwarts. His eyes were still set behind his half moon spectacles, but the faint trace of the twinkle had returned. His long, crooked nose and his beard were familiar, and safe.

"Ariana," he whispered. "I cannot tell you what it means to see you back here so soon."

"Thank you Professor," Ariana said kindly. "It is… indescribable being back here. I have only dreamt of it every night for the past two years."

Dumbledore smiled. "As it is, I would rather spend countless hours hearing about those years, as we shall, in due course, but I am needed outside the castle and it cannot wait."

Ariana nodded. "I understand."

"I have already informed the students and staff at dinner this evening of your administration of the Defence Against the Dark Arts post. Is there anything that was not included in the letter you wish to discuss?"

Ariana shook her head, the small smile still on her face.

"Very well. I trust you can find your way to your chambers?" Dumbledore said, rising to his feet.  
Copying his actions, she did the same, picking up the crown and putting it away. "Yes sir. I know where they are."

He smiled warmly at her.

"Oh, may I… see it?"

Ariana reached into her clock breast pocket and pulled out the crown. Dumbledore took it gently from her hands and turned it over, studying it. He shut his eyes for a time, and then handed it back to Ariana, who slipped it back into her pocket.

"Well I must be off. They're in the middle of dinner, if you're hungry."

Dumbledore moved around his desk.

Ariana turned to him. "Goodbye, Professor. Thank you for this opportunity at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore smiled and walked towards the door. However, when he reached it, he turned, his hand on the door handle.

"Hermione, I must say… you've changed."

Ariana smiled at him, in the same expression she had donned all evening. "I know."

* * *

Malfoy sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall making his way through his second helping of pumpkin pie. He already had most of the teachers wrapped around his finger, save McGonagall and Dumbledore. Malfoy was certain that this new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Dumbledore had mentioned before the main course would soon be under his charms.

"Malfoy," Blaise muttered cooly. "Look._"_

Malfoy looked up at Blaise, his expression bored. "What is-?" he began.

"Do you think that's the new teacher Dumbledore was talking about?_"_ he whispered, his expression bored.

The small clacking of high heels walking up the centre of the Great Hall had people freezing with food halfway towards their mouths. The moss green cloak, which was fastened with a belt tightly around a small waist, had the eyes of all the men in the room. The blonde, curly hair had the candle light bouncing off it in slivers.

The woman passed Malfoy without glancing at him. Her head was held forwards. There was no expression on her face. She continued to the staff table, where she shook McGonagall's hand and proceeded around the staff table, meeting all the professors, before sitting next to Snape and taking the empty seat beside Dumbledore's also vacant, usual seat.

"Who _is_ that?" echoed throughout the hall.

McGonagall stood up and addressed the students.

"I am pleased to announce your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Dumbledore."

Utter chaos broke out at McGonagall's words.

"Dumbledore?" was shrieked out incredulously across the room.

Malfoy, his food forgotten, turned to Blaise with his forehead creased in confusion and suspicion. Blaise shrugged back at him, keeping one eye on their new teacher.

She stood up and a hush fell once again over the hall.

"My name is Ariana Dumbledore," she began, her voice was slightly familiar. It was delicate, but self spoken. "I am Dumbledore's sister's granddaughter. You may call me Professor Ariana however." With a smile she clasped her hands together and sat down, leaving McGonagall to set the students back to their meals.

Malfoy reached forward and took a bite of his pumpkin pie, his eyes fixed glaringly upon the new Dumbledore.

* * *

Ariana spun slowly around her chambers. The large room consisted of a double bed, a couch, a table and a fireplace. She placed the crown on the mantle above the fireplace, adding protective wards around it, and then flung herself down onto the couch. She lifted her wand and a fire sparked in the fireplace.

All things considered, she was finding Hogwarts very traumatic to be in. When she had been sitting at the staff table in the Great Hall, her eyes had fallen on Harry and Ron, who were sitting with Neville and Ginny. Neville was telling them something, his face was lit up in animation, and while Ginny appeared to be listening, it was obvious that Harry and Ron were trying their best not to laugh at him. From their behaviour, Ariana suspected Neville was talking about a magical plant. She longed to know. Ron said something, and Harry laughed loudly along with him, while Ginny, who was trying to suppress a smirk, slapped Ron's arm. Neville stopped talking.

Ariana had placed her spoonful of cherry pie down on her plate with a clatter, which had Snape turning to look at her cautiously. She felt a tightening around her heart, as though someone was gripping it and was slowly putting more and more pressure on. She clenched her stomach as her chest began to burn. Her hand stole forward and wrapped around the goblet of wine. She raised it to her mouth and began coughing violently as it ran down her throat.

Ariana was vaguely aware of Snape using his wand on her, and suddenly, the tension in her chest dissipated and she looked up to find the entire Great Hall staring at her. Her eyes landed again on Harry and Ron and a lump rose in her throat. She quickly fixed her gaze on Snape.

"Thanks," she had muttered. Why was everyone looking at her?

The Great Hall had stared at her as though she were some kind of weird specimen Hagrid had brought to a Care of Magical Creatures class. She had speared a piece of steak on her fork and shoved it into her mouth, chewing forcefully. She then drowned it down her throat with another drink. Eventually, the students all turned back to their plates and the talk amongst them had begun to rise.

On the couch, Ariana's fingers curled themselves around the edge of the cushion as she stared around her new chambers. Crookshanks sat on the arm of the couch, purring softly. The sound of the flames and the cat's noises blended gently into Ariana's exhausted mind and she slowly succumbed to sleep.

* * *

It was fair to say that Malfoy was at a crossroads.

His father, trapped in the Dark Lords inner circle, had initiated the idea of using his final year at Hogwarts to influence as many people as possible. As much as he resented his father for the idea, he had to admit, it was brilliant. If only his father understood. Malfoy was sixteen, still at school and simply wanted to create as much trouble for the Gryfindors while he still could. He had all of his life to work for the Dark Lord once this year was over.

His mother agreed with him, and had seen to it to stand up for him whenever his father had pulled him into their drawing room to discuss his future.

"_Draco," his father said, appearing in the doorway of the drawing room and he was walking past, towards the kitchens. _

_He stopped. "Yes, father?"_

"_Come in here for a moment. I need to speak with you."_

_Malfoy had followed him inside, understanding what his father wanted to talk about. It regularly happened. After dinner, particularly when his father had been summoned by that Dark Lord on that day, his father would sometimes call a family meeting. It always ended in tears from his mother, and silent, fuming hatred towards his father and the Dark Lord settling in his chest. It tore at his chest, and while he wasn't against the Dark Lord and his plans, he wasn't willing to sacrifice his own freedom for him. At least, not yet. _

_There was still so much he wanted to do. He wanted to visit Paris, Hawaii, Australia, Italy and so many more places. He wanted to tell Pansy what it meant to him that time in fifth year when she had found him alone at the Quidditch pitch and had simply sat with him, rather than trying to get him to talk. He wanted to be able to get the goddamn wandless magic completely under check. He wanted to beat Potter to the Snitch, even just once. He wanted to help Blaise hold the biggest end of year party in the Slytherin common room that Hogwarts had ever seen. He wanted to work his way into the Ministry, and finally change some of the departments around, while at the same time being able to heavily influence the entire facility. He wanted to take his mother on a plane. He had overheard someone… (was it Ernie McMillan?) talking about one. He thought she would like it. He wanted to show his father that he no longer needed him to stand in front of him and fight his battles. He was older now, he wasn't in his second or third year anymore. _

_As Draco held in the internal, frustrated sigh, he froze._

_His father was standing in front of the fire place, a glass of firewhiskey on the mantle. His mother sat on one of the green and white armchairs, her hair today, was unusually, pulled back. Next to his mother sat…_

"_Aunt Bella?"_

_She looked up from the rug she had been glaring impatiently at. _

"_Draco, dear," she croaked in her high pitched, overly enthusiastic voice. She rose to her feet and glided over to him. He still stood frozen in the doorway. Cupping his face tightly in her hands she pushed his head to the right and seemed to inspect him. He grimaced as his long, bony fingers dug into his flesh. Muttering under her breath, she forced his head left. With a quick slap to the face she released him. _

"_You, Draco, will serve the Dark Lord well," she told him with a wicked grin planted across her face. She was about as tall as him, with her tiny frame covered in dark, heavy robes of black. They looked tattered and worn. Her hair, which blended perfectly with her robes of jet black, was wild. It curled and frizzed and stuck up around her head. Clearly, the Dark Lord didn't need his followers to appear presentable, he thought bitterly, as he waited for the stinging in his cheek to dull. _

"_Sit, Draco," his mother said quietly from her chair. He took the closest chair to him, which was directly facing the fireplace, and his father. Steeling himself, he prepared for what would come over the next hour. _

"_What is it, father?"_

"_The Dark Lord is gaining power," his father said, downing the rest of his firewhiskey and placing the glass back on the mantle. He was facing the fire when he continued. "It is simple that he understands your desires to pursue his dreams-"_

"_Am I getting the Dark Mark?" Malfoy cut in. His heart burst, and the tightening of his chest increased ten-fold. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, he couldn't-_

"_No," his mother said. _

"_At least," Bella interrupted, "not yet."_

_His eyes darted between the three adults in the room. They focused on his father. He had since turned around and refilled his glass. His fathers eyes drew level with his, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach._

"_What do I have to do?"_

"Malfoy!"

Malfoy's head snapped up. The bottle of butterbeer was hanging from his hands.

"What?" Malfoy asked Pansy, who was sitting on one of the two couches in the corner of the Slytherin common room in which Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Daphne and himself had claimed as theirs for their final year.

She rolled her eyes at him and pushed a piece of her ebony black fringe from her eyes. "I _said_, what do you think about this new Dumbledore?"

His eyes darted between Blaise and Pansy, the only two in the common room besides himself.

"Depends," he said, choosing a neutral approach. He wasn't having them point out he was completely wrong about her, not that he would be, but… no, he would tackle the problem of this new Dumbledore with neutrality until he could decide upon the best option. If she was a loon like Dumbledore then he wouldn't even bother. He figured since she was young and she didn't look like she spent her school years studying _books_… then she wouldn't hold much influence over anyone but Dumbledore himself, but if it turned out he could use her, then he would.

"Is that all you're going to say?" Blaise asked. He was sitting next to Pansy on the couch, leaning his head against her shoulder.

Malfoy pulled the butterbeer up to his lips and tipped the bottle. When he had finished what had remained he placed it with a small _clank_ on the table in front of him.

"For now."  
Pansy sighed. "Draco, what's bothering you? You haven't been the same since the holidays."

"Nothing Pans!" Malfoy said heatedly, rising to his feet. "I'm going to bed."

He pushed past the couch and stalked to his room in the boys tower. He pulled off his loosened tie and threw it over the seat next to his bed. Pulling off his shoes and socks, he climbed into bed without removing the rest of his uniform. He drew the curtain around the four poster bed and set a silencing charm around it. He then placed his wand on his bedside table, next to the box of chocolate frogs his mother had sent.

He lay down; drawing the green covers over him and placed his head on the pillow, willing for sleep to come quickly. It didn't.

"_It is in the weakness of others we find our power."_

"_Father!" Malfoy cried, beyond frustrated. "Just listen to me!"_

_His mother was crying, he could hear her sobs. Her sister was telling her to calm down, that Draco was a big boy… it was his duty, his honour to do this for the family, for the Dark Lord._

"_Draco, you will use your final year as instructed. Begin with the teachers who are neutral or partial towards you. The Ravenclaws, focus on them as well. Don't worry about the Hufflepuffs, but if you can find a Gryfindor or two, our Master will reward you greatly. You will owl me a foot of reports once a month, for me to pass on to the Dark Lord your progress. By the Christmas break we will have a more substantial mission for you."_

"_But I don't-" _

"_You will do well to remember that the Dark Lord rewards those who are faithful to him."_

_Malfoy's stomach flipped for the fifth time that evening. He felt like he was going to throw up. Desperately, he figured he had Pansy to talk to about this, to find a loophole out. He had all of his seventh year, right?_

"_But father, how will I persuade them to-"_

"_Remember Draco, 'it is in the weakness of others that we find our power'." _

Malfoy sat up in bed, his hand reaching for his wand.

"_Lumos._"

Malfoy shut his eyes and controlled his breathing. It was becoming harder to escape the memory of what he had to do.

It was becoming so much harder.


	5. Sepia

**A Touch of Poise by ArianaFaithful**

**Chapter 5: Sepia**

"Professor?"

Ariana turned around, placing the chalk that rested in her hand onto her desk at the front of the class room. She scanned the room quickly, searching for the face to the deadly familiar voice.

The rest of the class looked up from their parchment and stared at Ron, who had his arm in the air, waiting for the professor to call on him.

"Yes, Mister …" Ariana said, pretending not to know who he was.

"Weasley. My name's Ron."

"Right, Mister Weasley," Ariana said, containing a smirk behind her thin lips. She missed her friend; and how she adored him. "What is it then?"

"I was just wondering if you could tell us a little bit about yourself," he said, glancing sideways towards Harry, who hadn't even looked up from his parchment.

Ariana let the smile slip onto her lips, as she sat delicately on the edge of her desk.

"What is it that you would like to know, Mister Weasley?"

The class seemed to sit up a little straighter once they realised she was going to answer questions that had piqued the schools curiosity for the past week.

Ron rubbed his hand behind his head, his face turning the same shade as his hair.

"Where are you from? What did you do before you came to Hogwarts?"

"I grew up in England, but for the past two years I have been studying advanced magic in Egypt."

"How old are you?" Seamus called out.

Ariana smiled to herself. This would be fun.

"I'm a few months older than most of you," she said, watching their shocked faces.

More hands rose up around the classroom.

"How is it that you are a teacher then?" Dean Thomas cried across the noise.

"I studied at a magical school for a while, but then self taught myself what I didn't know. I think you will find I am more than equipped to teach you this year. You over there, with the black hair."

Pansy Parkinson smiled widely at Ariana, before introducing herself to the professor.

"I was just wondering, where did you get your shoes?"

The boys in the class groaned, while Daphne Greengrass, Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil all sat up straighter. Ariana noticed that Draco Malfoy was grimacing at Pansy, before turning back to look at her from under his lashes.

Ariana chuckled, "well spotted Miss Parkinson. These, I found on my way to Egypt."

Harry Potter raised his hand in the air, seeming to deliberate beforehand.

"Did you grow up in Godric's Hollow, like Professor Dumbledore?"

Ariana saw the glimpse of hope shaded in his eyes. The emerald seemed to shine today, more than usual. She knew he was seeking information about his parents, perhaps wondering if her parents had known then, befriended them. If she knew anything at all.

"I'm afraid not," she said quietly, and the look on Harry's face made her wish she hadn't allowed Ron to ask her questions at all.

She looked around the room, desperately seeking another hand to expel the deadening sadness she had for Harry. She noticed Draco Malfoy's hand was up. She called on him.

"Professor, I was wondering what it was that led you to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts," Draco said, putting on his most charming voice.

Ariana sighed, "Mister Malfoy, I have learnt in the past that the Dark Arts are an abyss, in which one finds themselves often to have stumbled upon quite accidentally. It is not something I would wish upon my mortal enemy, for it consumes you so completely that you no longer have the ability to see things clearly. It is, in my opinion, the most unfortunate thing that could happen to a person. The Dark Arts are unlike anything else in its simple power to take a human from their environment, to take away feelings of anything but driving ambition and to turn them into something more terrible than a monster. In this sense, I believe that each and every person should understand that full nature of the Dark Arts, and what it means to let them become your master. It is even more important to know how to protect – not only yourself – but the people and things around you, for they are likely as innocent as the flower which blooms in the sun."

The class had fallen silent. There were no more whispering between school mates, no more glares being flung across the classroom from Slytherin to Gryffindor. Wands sat in book bags, or dropped onto the desk, as their books (which they had been reading out of before Ron interrupted) lay completely forgotten beside their quills and parchment.

Draco Malfoy was looking at her, and it seemed to Ariana that he did not quite know what to make of her. Ron was sitting back in his seat, staring at her as if he was truly looking at her for the first time. Harry stared at her, his eyes narrowed – in thought, Ariana believed, not in anger – and hands wringing beneath his desk. Pansy looked up at Ariana with what seemed like admiration, while Dean and Seamus looked at her with excited grins on their faces.

"Have you ever used the Dark Arts yourself?" Harry said, his tone challenging.

"There is nothing in the world that could make me use the Dark Arts. I have seen enough suffering in the people I love to understand the bitter foolishness of those powers," Ariana said, a quiet fury entering her voice. "No, Mister Potter, I have never used them."

Harry nodded at her, seeming to make peace with what she said.

"Class, while we may be talking about the Dark Arts," Ariana said, trying to sound chipper and change the dark mood of the classroom. "We are not talking about today's intended topic! _Accio parchment!"_

The parchment her students had spent the beginning of the class working on flew into a neat pile on her desk. The students stared up at her, waiting. Ariana began her lecture.

"Curses," she told the class, "are an evil sort of magic. While the magic you learn here at Hogwarts is what I will refer to as neutral magic, it can also be used for a less than pure purpose. The difference in magic is behind the spellcaster's intentions. Such as the magic you learn in Charms and Transfiguration, curses can be used effectively, and in the right manner. For example, the Fidelius Charm, can be used for bad or for good. This makes it a neutral spell. Using a curse to aid yourself, or someone else from an evil purpose would be considered, ethically, the right manner. Using a curse to demonstrate your ability – _if the curse does not inflict harm _– it would also be considered the right manner. The difference is, when it comes to the Dark Arts, curses you learn at school can often be the least of your worries.

"In relation to the Dark Arts, most spells have evil intentions. Most were created around the Four Founder's time, 1000 A.D. Curses, and some hexes and jinxes, have only evil intentions in mind when their creator developed them. The Dark Arts are mostly unexplored, as the obvious danger was seen as soon as they started popping up. Spells that were based on evil were outlawed by magic rulers, and these laws are still being enforced by the ministry today. It is the direct intention to do harm which places a spell into the category of the Dark Arts.

"While a person may use a curse or hex belonging to the category of Dark Arts, it does not mean that person is necessarily using the Dark Arts. It is ultimately the intention of the caster and the spells placement of the receiver of the curse which determines that the person is or is not using the Dark Arts. It is hard to make a distinction along the line of evil and of good intent, which leads to why Hogwarts teaches Defence Against the Dark Arts, as it is important to understand the difference between what spells are acceptable, and what are not.

"I want you to list the spells on the board down onto your parchment, provide a description of the spells effects, and then describe whether or not it is a neutral or a dark spell. You have until the end of the class, and homework time. These are to be handed in at the beginning of next lesson."

Ariana sat down at her desk, overseeing the class. At intervals, students would look up at her with something akin to awe, but quickly place their heads back down as they met her gaze. Ariana poured over the classes' previous work, marking their parchments. At the end of the class, as she dismissed them, the pieces of parchment flew back towards their owners, their grades resting in red ink at the top.

Ariana shuffled around the classroom once it was empty. She waved her wand at the floor, and cleaning up any bits of spilt ink or scrap parchment. She would work hard, not only to unravel the secrets of the crown Dumbledore refused to tell her, but to gain the trust of her students – even the Slytherins, because she felt that not all of them were as evil as they made out to be.

* * *

It seemed that, Hogwarts ever the place for gossip and rumours, Professor Ariana was being discussed throughout the castle. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs all spoke highly of her, regarding her as the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher since Lupin. The Ravenclaws admired her for her quick wit, and intellect, and proclaimed that had never learnt as much about the Defence Against the Dark Arts than they had with her teaching. Even the Slytherins respected her, constantly turning all their work in on time, and trying to get on her good side. The males of Hogwarts swooned after her; her blonde hair, smarts, small waist and kind nature had them at her beck and call. The females of Hogwarts sought her out after class, to ask her opinion on what to wear on their dates to Hogsmeade, where to buy that coat they had seen her wearing, or how to get ahead in class. Ariana was admired, and trusted.

The first two months of the school year passed alarmingly quickly for everyone involved. The students found themselves either in classes, or doing homework. The teachers found themselves either in classes, or grading homework. It was a brutal cycle, agreed teachers and students alike.

Ariana had found time to set up her chambers, placing photographs of herself as Hermione with Harry and Ron (which had been charmed to show Ariana with Albus Dumbledore) sat on her bedside. The crown lay in a box on top of her wardrobe, bound by heavy protection charms.

She had redecorated her rooms, changing the colour of her quilts and the size and comfort of her couch. She had set up the living room as her place of solitude. Here she placed her books, her photo albums and priceless treasures in. The small coffee table and couch acted as her hideaway.

The bathroom, she had changed to a creamy marble colour, and had expanded it from the inside. She felt something close to worship in regards to the time she spent in the bathroom. She allowed her showers to drain away the sadness and homesickness of her old life, and the stress and anxiety of her new one.

While many envied her perfect life, she found that while she did enjoy it, a keen sense of loss and a feeling of deadness consumed her every waking hour. If only Harry and Ron knew that she wasn't dead. She had seen the change in them, and overheard Ginny speaking to Neville and Luna of it one day as she paced around the grounds. Harry had become more secluded from the people around him, often refusing to talk to people for days at a time.

Her old name was brought up once, by Dean while her class were participating in a discussion involving the power of spells regarding the power of the caster. He had mentioned Hermione to be the cleverest witch he had ever met, and that she could put their entire year level to shame. Ron had got out of his seat, his face as red as his hair, kicked over an empty seat and stormed out of the classroom. Harry had sat in his seat, staring out the window and refused to say another word for the rest of the week.

She wished – oh how she wished! – that she could have gone to the two of them and told them everything. She knew she couldn't, and that if they were to ever find out, that it would be after Voldemort was defeated, and not before.

Something no one in the castle suspected, besides Albus Dumbledore, was Ariana's sorrow and loneliness. She watched her old friends, even the Slytherins as they participated in school and Hogsmeade outings, and dark feelings overwhelmed her.

Ariana sat on her living room couch, staring into the fire on the 30th of October, almost a full two months since she had arrived at the school to begin teaching. She had resolved to shed her loneliness and make friends with her students. She watched the fire, having decided to use Halloween as her first step to becoming real friends with some of her students.

She yawned, stretching her hands over her head and peered out of the window. The sun was just rising. Ariana headed to the bathroom, showered and climbed into her robes for the day – a bewitched set she had spelled the night before. Her robes, with the help of an invisibility charm, flickered on and off between causing Ariana to appear to shimmer, as though she was disappearing, and then restore full vision to her in a nice set of robes. She grinned as she glanced in the mirror and saw her body glimmer and fade, then promptly appear again.

She headed down to the Great Hall and took her seat beside Snape, who seemed to be the only other person in the castle awake, as he was the only other one in the Great Hall. He acknowledged her as she sat down and pulled a plate of toast towards her. Thousands of bats flew around the enchanted ceiling, never coming close to base of the room, where the students would sit around their house tables and enjoy the Halloween feast later that night. Spider webs hung from the walls, resting on tables and dangling from the floating candles which lit the dim room.

"Professor," Ariana said after swallowing a bite of her egg on toast. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about arranging a joint class for one session next week. I was thinking that I would bring my seventh years down to the dungeons and we could discuss some of the darker potions, their effects and what their antidote is."

Snape looked at her from underneath his greasy black hair.

"That sounds like a marvellous idea," he drawled slowly. She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or not.

"What potions do you plan on having us teach the class?"

Again, his slippery, cold voice confused Ariana, but she continued with her request.

"Well, I was thinking we could start with Draught of Living Death, as more of a defensive potion, and then continue with the dangers of potions such as exploding fluids, and Flesh Eating Slug Repellent. We could then teach about the issues of the Instant Darkness Powder, perhaps the Polyjuice Potion…"

"Well of course I have already covered the dangers of these potions," Snape said, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice, and staring at her haughtily.

"I know that," Ariana continued, frustrated at his lacking attitude towards her. "I meant in conjunction with a Defence Against the Dark Arts class. This way, your teaching will be used so I can take these issues, which currently the students only learn about in theory, and put them into practice. We are about to cover a potions section of the course, and I thought this would benefit the students completely!"

"Well then, Professor Dumbledore," Snape said, turning and raising his glass to her. "Bring your students down to the dungeons next Monday after lunch."

Ariana stuffed the last piece of her breakfast in her mouth, chased it down with her juice and nodded to Snape.

"Thank you," she said, and walked out of the Great Hall.

She took the stairs two at a time, jittery and anxious to reach her class room. She strode to her office, which connected to the side of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class room, and flung the door open. She pulled the window wide open and stared at all the parchment on her desk. She finished marking the final stack, which she had neglected last night due to fatigue. She charmed them all to fly back to their owners once they entered the class room; sparing her having to hand their essays back.

Ariana still had a good hour before the beginning of her first class, and so began to rearrange the class room. She pulled down some of the old posters from the walls and put them in a small cupboard at the end of the room. She took her wand and pointed it at the wall, biting her lower lip in thought.

She began performing spells on the wall, and when the time the first student entered her class room for the morning, she stood back and stared at the wall. Her class stood collectively behind her, their voices silencing once they entered the room and looked upon the left wall.

"My god, Professor," Lavender Brown suddenly whispered.


End file.
